


Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Quentin

by Hellafiction



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki is a Good Bro, M/M, May Parker is not good, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Quentin Beck, Worried Quentin Beck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellafiction/pseuds/Hellafiction
Summary: What if Peter Parker knew that something was off with Quentin right from the start?A fic where Peter only pretended to be sweet, innocent and naive, but is in fact, bitter and jaded, yet somehow fooled even the master of deception himself.How will those two pick up the pieces left of each other?
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Mysterio/Spiderman, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Quentin Beck & Tony Stark, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Quentin

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This is my first fic posted on AO3 and my first ever written about Spiderio. Please keep in mind that this is gonna be very dark before it gets better and im posting a major trigger warning here, as there will be graphic mentions of addictions, mental illness, self harm, abuse and eating disorders.  
> I apologise for any grammatical errors as English is not my first language!

It had been exactly five months since the whole traumatic fiasco with Beck, and Peter was not coping well. Having just gotten home, He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of modified whiskey. The tired boy could hear his roommates in the living room watching something on the tv, so he followed the noise. 

‘’Hey guys,’’ he greeted as he flopped down on the couch.

Wanda spared him a glance before returning to whatever was on.

Loki glanced between him and the glass and raised an eyebrow,’’ hello, Peter.’’ He didn’t mention the glass. He knew it was one of those days.

They all continued to watch the boring tv show in silence before Peter decided to get off the couch. He tiredly got to his similarly decorated room to the one he had at aunt May’s and stripped off his suit, where he left it on the floor and walked back out of his room to shower. He stepped into the small tub before turning on the hot water and collapsing on the tubs floor, emotionally and physically drained. 

His mind was the worst enemy he ever had.

The traitorous thoughts shifted to Beck as fast as a cheetah could catch her prey. He never even stood a chance. Why didn’t he stop Beck in time? How could he let it get this far? All these questions plagued his mind, he wanted answers, but he was scared to find them.

Peter suddenly stood up in the shower and nearly slipped due to being lightheaded, catching his balance. He turned it off and stepped out, briefly glancing at the mirror he had covered up with the towel and he just barely resisted the urge to uncover it. Doing that would be a bad idea. So, he dried off and walked out of the shower back to his room, not even noticing that he had mixed up the order of some steps. Laying down on his mattress he glanced up at the window, the dark new York sky was beautifully littered with lights and he felt a tight squeezing of his chest and his eyes blurred.  
He cursed, remembering his forgotten whiskey as he found the cardboard pack under his pillow and pulled out a cigarette, he put it between his lips before lighting it and on his first drag of smoke, his chest stopped squeezing and all he could feel was numbness that comforted him. Soon enough his suffocating room was filled with smoke that circled around him as it slowly drifted out of the fully open window into the dark streets of Oueens. 

The empty void in his chest still screamed.

He missed Beck, no, Mysterio. It was fucked up.

Sooner than Peter would have liked, his smoke had become only a stub that burnt his fingers slightly, he winced and dropped it from the 5th floor. He didn’t want to admit that he was glad for the pain, it reminded him that he wasn’t completely numb.

How could he feel so restless at the same time?

Peter ran his hand through his messy curls and made an impulsive decision to climb out of his window and reach for the fire escape that was just slightly out of his reach, he stuck to the wall as he pulled his body on it with more struggle than used to. Once on it he pulled his unzipped hood on his head in case someone saw him. He started climbing to the roof and once there, he sat down on the edge, feet dangling. Putting his hands in the hoodies pockets he felt something, pulling it out he realized that it was a marker. Another stupid idea struck him. Uncapping the marker, the young boy scrawled out a sentence that was probably never gonna be read by the right person. 

Starting to feel the familiar alarm bells in his head, feeling like he was being watched. Peter closed his eyes for a moment and wished that the ‘Peter tingle’ would simply fuck off, he just didn’t care anymore about his immediate safety. Letting out a heavy sigh he continued to watch the city lights for a moment more before he returned to his bedroom. He hoped it was him, he didn’t want it to be him.

Exactly two minutes after peter left, a figure emerged from the shadows as it neared the spot the young boy was previously sitting. The figure knelt down before it jumped up and took a step back as it read the messy writing.

‘’I know you are alive.’’

By the time Peter felt the type of tired that drags you into a restless, disturbed sleep it was already sunrise. His bones felt weary as he sat on the floor beside his bed, cradling a laptop. He felt a stronger breeze and his enhanced ears picked up a thud.

‘’Hello Peter.’’

He immediately cursed as he jumped up and looked at the intruder with sharp eyes, so unlike the first time they met. There was a brief silence while both of them took each other’s appearance in. 

As Beck truly looked at Peter more closely than ever since 5 months ago, he was taken aback. He noted the dark circles that stood out from his pale skin, his eyes held bitter maturity in them- the kind that would show survived suffering. It was clear as day, Quentin did not know whether Peter had had it all along or if it was a new addition.

Peter’s eyes hardened the longer he stared at Beck, trying so hard not to crack under his intense, calculating gaze as he observed him just as he observed the other. Further staring at Beck, he noted the other had stayed relatively same, besides the change in fashion and the unreadable look in his eyes.

Both of them were speechless.

‘You-you son of a bitch!’’ He forcefully exclaimed, but his tone stayed just slightly above a whisper. The gods that still cared must have really loved the inner turmoil this would cause Peter.

‘’I read your message on the rooftop.’’ Beck said it in a way as if that should have made all the sense in the world. 

It made Peter boil with anger. He didn’t know why. Didn’t need to. ‘’Were you stalking me!?’’ He seethed as he stepped barely an inch closer to Beck.

Quentin tried to keep his calm exterior as he needed to figure out what to say, how to make this whole situation better, but he had no idea. ‘’I can explain,’’ he raised his arms in a non-threatening way. He couldn’t explain.

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t immediately lose it, but it felt like if he spoke, that would change soon. Instead, he motioned the older man to speak.

‘’I-I never really wanted to kill you Peter and I’m sorry it went like this, but you got to understand, you got in the way. You were too trusting; it was easy until it wasn’t. I really did like you.’’ He paused, somehow, he still hadn’t said what he truly wanted, before he could peter interrupted him.

‘’Are you seriously trying to put the blame on me!? You tried to fucking shoot me in the head and what exactly would have you done if instead of me that was stuck in your play-pretend we’re someone like Doctor Strange-sorcerer supreme?’‘ Peter had raised his voice, almost yelling as he stepped closer to Beck as he looked the man in the eyes. Beck tried to interrupt,’’- don’t even start, Beck. I know what you are going to say, I can’t believe that the times I started to doubt my own instincts I had felt guilty for killing you!’’ 

Quentin had stopped trying to interrupt, he never expected this from Peter, It was as if he was a flipped coin exposing the other side. He listened to Peters hurt voice and his chest felt tight and there was no way he could fight the incoming regret that was trying to seep in through the cracks.

At this point, both men were almost chest to chest, ‘’ and the worst of all, I knew something was up, I was just too tired to deal with Nick Fury and too filled with self doubt to say anything!’’ By the time his near mental breakdown had calmed down, he noticed his true proximity to Beck.

None of them made any moves to back away.

‘’What did you just say?’’

Only then did Peter realise what he had just done, but there was no going back now. ‘’Yeah, never bullshit a bullshitter Quentin,’’ he humourlessly laughed. 

Quentin stayed silent, all of it sinking in like an anchor in his mind. It was perplexing, to think that the young, innocent, sweet Peter saw through his illusions all along. His smart, brilliant Peter- he snapped out of his thoughts before he could finish thinking that cursed sentence. 

The stale scent of smoke and whiskey filled his senses. Quentin’s eyes widened in disbelief and concern.’’ Have you been drinking?’’

His serious tone caught Peter off guard, and he didn’t dare to answer or even look Beck in the eyes. There was no point in lying, so he slowly nodded, he heard Beck draw in a shaky breath.

‘’I assume you’ve picked up smoking too…’’ he slowly pointed out, guilt and regret drowning his heart. Did he cause such a shift in Peter? ‘’Why?’’ Beck silently rasped.

Peters mouth went as dry as the combination of every desert in existence. How was he supposed to answer? The truth scorched his tongue. ‘’ I’ve always hidden it well.’’ He couldn’t bare to give a direct answer, he hoped-prayed to every god there was that his answer would be enough. 

‘’You didn’t answer my question.’’ 

‘’Why do you care?!’’ Peter teared up at even the slightest chance that the older man might care.

Quentin desperately searched for the words he needed to say, considering each option carefully.


End file.
